


Second Time's A Charm

by dashwood



Category: Scrubs (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dr. Cox gets shot, JD switches to pediatrics, M/M, Temporary Character Death, The Janitor is an unhelpful jerk (until he isn't)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22908994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dashwood/pseuds/dashwood
Summary: It was simple. There were only two rules. One: The first touch brings back the dead. Two: The second lays them to rest forever. They didn't come with an instruction manual or a handy how-to guide, and certainly no return policy. JD would know, and Dr. Cox would soon find out.
Relationships: Perry Cox/John "JD" Dorian
Comments: 15
Kudos: 88





	Second Time's A Charm

\--

_Working in a hospital is like a balancing act. You’re constantly crossing the line between life and death, hoping that you can beat the odds just one more time. It doesn’t matter what it is you’re fighting: If it’s gravity or cancer or – in Dr. Kelso’s case – the temptation of the nurses' muffin basket. Either way, you’re always trying to stay on course. Because just one wrong step means tumbling down the tightrope._

  


\--

It was simple. There were only two rules. Two rules that had dominated his life ever since he’d been a little child. The first had pushed him towards medicine. It had appealed to his idealism, fuelling his desire to help people, to make them better. To pull them back from the brink of death.

One: _the first touch brings back the dead._

The second had crept up on him when he’d least expected it. It had smothered him with a crushing weight, the taste of defeat and guilt like acid in his mouth. He supposed that lessons like that had to be learnt early on in life: nothing was free, and he’d been a fool to believe otherwise.

Two: _The second lays them to rest forever._

They hadn’t come with an instruction manual or a handy how-to guide, and certainly no return policy. They were a part of him, ingrained in his DNA like the color of his eyes or the constellation of freckles between his shoulder blades. It had taken him a while to come to terms with it, and even then he had decided to use his powers sparsely. He had made sure to stay below the radar, treating his gift like a precious instrument locked behind a wall of glass, bold letters proclaiming it to be _for emergencies only_. 

He couldn’t imagine a bigger emergency than the possibility of losing Dr. Cox.

\--

  


It all happened so fast. 

There was a sudden cacophony of screams, shrill and blood-curdling, followed by a round of rapid gunshots. JD blanched, his insides twisting in dread. He didn't know what was happening, his mind having gone blank with fear. More shouting followed _–_ frantic, this time. The sound of something crashing to the floor, panicked footsteps interspersed with glass shattering. 

It felt like hours before one of the hospital’s security guards finally gave the all clear. By that time, a small crowd had formed in the center of the ICU, gasping and crying, clearly shocked to the core. Somehow, JD managed to force his way through the throng of petrified interns, shell-shocked nurses and hysteric patients. 

The sight that met him would be forever burned into his mind. 

Dr. Cox lay in the middle of the floor, surrounded by a rapidly growing pool of blood. He was barely breathing, struggling through a series of rattling coughs, and JD didn't need to step any closer to know that there was nothing they could do for him. Elliot was trying nonetheless. Her hands were shaking where they pressed against the gaping bullet holes in Dr. Cox’s chest. 

As his feet carried him across the room, JD couldn’t shake the feeling that he was wading through water. Everything had slowed down, making him feel small and insignificant. Helpless.

A look of relief crossed Elliot’s face when she spotted him. She was probably glad that she wouldn’t have to do this alone, that she wouldn’t have to take sole responsibility for allowing Dr. Cox to slip through their fingers. 

“JD,” she said in that clipped tone she got when things came crushing down. When she was about to lose all hope. “Can you…” 

JD nodded, crouching down beside her and taking over as Elliot got up in search of a gurney. Useless, really. By the time they’d be able to move him to one of the operating rooms, Dr. Cox would already be dead and gone. Hell, he was already halfway there, JD thought as he assessed the damage. 

Dr. Cox was incredibly pale, the skin of his face looking almost ashen against the dark specks of blood that coated his lips and chin. Some of the blood had gotten into his eyelashes; they left a crimson half-crescent just beneath his left eye whenever he blinked. The sight was strangely hypnotizing. 

He had gone completely silent save for the rattling coughs that racked through his chest with every other breath. JD suspected that one of the bullets had torn straight through his lungs, filling them with blood and making it impossible to speak. God, he couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain he must be in. 

Still, JD offered him a reassuring smile. 

“You’ll be alright.” 

Dr. Cox made a choked sound, and JD knew that if he had the strength to do so he would have told him off: _Never make any promises and for God’s sake, don’t give your patients false hope, Carol. Didn’t I teach you anything?_

Much too soon, his breathing became even more shallow until it eventually faded out completely. JD watched helplessly as Dr. Cox drew in one last, excruciating breath before he went still, his eyes falling shut. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, JD turned to the large clock hanging above the nurse’s station. 

Time of death _–_ 5:17pm. 

He let his gaze roam across the room. 

Two uniformed officers had arrived to take the shooter into custody. He was still foaming when they pushed him out of the ICU, accusing the medical staff of murdering his daughter. JD would have to get the full story later. 

Around him, nurses were scrambling to restore the status quo. Doctors were rushing from one bed to the next, examining the patients for any signs of shock or trauma. It was a never-ending dance of life and death. Closing the circle. Back to business. Just like that. 

It was almost funny, JD thought, how this whole room seemed to be bursting with life when Dr. Cox was... 

JD looked back at the lifeless body in front of him. He didn’t know why he was even hesitating; it wasn’t as if there was any question about it. This was Dr. Cox, after all. His boss, his mentor, his _friend_. JD _needed_ him to be okay.

Steeling himself, he reached out and trailed his fingertips across Dr. Cox’s right cheekbone. His eyes snapped open at once, wide and panicked, as he fought for air. A tortured cough tore through his lungs, and JD turned away and shouted for Elliot to get a move on with that gurney. 

  


\-- 

  


It had been two days since the shooting. 

Laverne had proclaimed it a miracle and _–_ buoyed in her faith _–_ had erected little figurines of Jesus all over the nurses’ station. Groaning in frustration, JD pushed one of them away with his elbow to make room for his paperwork. 

His eyes strayed back to Dr. Cox’s room for the umpteenth time that day. Jordan was sitting by his side, her hand resting protectively on his leg as Jack climbed around the bed, giggling whenever Dr. Cox reached out to ruffle his hair. And Dr. Cox... For once, he was actually smiling. By all accounts, it was a lovely picture. They did make a nice-looking family, once you stripped them off all the hostility and ire. And yet, JD couldn't ignore the way his stomach clenched in jealousy.

He looked down at the files in his hand _–_ the bold letters proclaiming _Request_ _for a Transferal to Pediatrics –_ before going in search of Dr. Kelso. 

  


\-- 

  


“Bambi!” Carla yanked at his arm as he was coming out of a patient’s room. “Dr. Cox wants to see you.” 

Figures. He had managed to avoid him so far. It hadn’t exactly been hard. He just had to stay clear of his room (and the adjoining ones, just in case. He had even switched some of his patients over to Elliot).

“I’ll go see him before the end of my shift.” 

He had pushed it off for as long as he could. But now _–_ standing in the locker room, having showered and dressed, checked and double checked and double-double checked his backpack _–_ he supposed that he had run out of excuses to dally any longer. 

“You gonna tell him?” 

JD jumped at the sound of the Janitor’s voice coming from somewhere behind him. Damn him and his sneaky footsteps. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so. How would that go anyway?” JD pitched his voice. “Oh, did I forget to mention that I can bring people back from the dead? My bad, silly me.” 

“I can tell him if you want,” the Janitor offered, not at all altruistically. “For a price.” 

“For the last time, I’m not resurrecting your stupid squirrel army.” 

“Zombie squirrels. We’d be unstoppable.” 

  


\-- 

  


“Knock knock.” 

Dr. Cox’s eyes were closed and JD would have thought that he was asleep if it wasn’t for the way his fingers kept drumming against his side. Probably a sign of irritation. JD would have to add it to his mental catalogue of Coxisms. He wondered if he was doing that trick his shrink had told him about _–_ counting to one, two, three, fou _–_

“Bethany.” 

Probably not then. 

“You wanted to see me?” 

“Why are you switching departments.” 

JD froze. 

“How did you find out?” 

“Bob-o stopped by to tell me. He’s been circling my room like a vulture _–_ probably trying to get me not to sue this dumpster fire of a hospital.” 

“Are you going to?” 

Dr. Cox glared at him, his googly eyes saying _you should know better than to try this with me, Polly_. JD sighed. 

“I thought it might be better to get some distance from… y’know.” 

He gave an awkward shrug of his shoulders, hand flailing in a way that he hoped Dr. Cox would take to mean 'away from the place of the shooting' rather than what he actually meant: 'away from _you_ '. 

In the end, it didn’t matter. Dr. Cox didn’t say anything. There was no asking him to stay, no emotionally-charged goodbye. Just… nothing. 

When JD turned to leave, he inwardly berated himself for believing for even a second that Dr. Cox would feel anything but indifference towards no longer working with him. 

  


\-- 

  


Pediatrics wasn’t so bad. Honestly. 

Dr. Norris was a certified nutjob with a medical degree, yes. But strip him off his puppets and the high-pitched voice he used to talk to children, and he wasn’t that different from Dr. Cox. He could rant with the best of them, each tirade infused with an unhealthy dose of narcissism. It wasn’t anything JD couldn’t handle. 

For the most part, his new workday consisted of collecting pee samples, wiping snot from toddler noses, and defending himself against irate parents who tried to pass their offsprings’ common cold off as the next global health crisis. But aside from that _–_

“It’s not so bad,” he said, picking absent-mindedly at his salad. 

“Dude,” Turk said. “I still don’t get it. I thought you liked this nerdy diagnosis stuff.” 

“I do.” His head cocked to the side as he imagined himself as Watson, following Dr. Cox-Sherlock around like a little duckling, and using a magnifying glass to deduce that yes, Mr. Kendrick in Room 203 did indeed have a disgusting rash on his back. 

“Then why not come back, JD?” Carla chimed in. He was just about to come up with an excuse (the classics: My horoscope slash fortune cookie slash spiritual guru encouraged me to find personal fulfillment in the medical care of children. Or: My long-lost uncle stipulated in his will that he would only bequeath his handsome fortune to a pediatrician. What can you do, huh?) when he spotted Dr. Cox stalking into the cafeteria. 

“I gotta go. I have this _–_ this thing. At the other end of the building.” 

He scrambled out of his chair _–_ his salad lying half-eaten and forgotten on his plate _–_ and stumbled out of the room. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed that Dr. Cox was staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. 

  


\-- 

  


“Dr. Norris? I’ve got a question about one of the patients _–_ Dr. Cox? What are you doing here?” 

JD froze in the doorway as he took in the scene in front of him. The two men were glaring at each other, clearly in the middle of a vicious stand-off. Dr. Cox had his arms folded in front of his chest, jaw set and his face red with anger. Dr. Norris held his ground, and JD would have commended him for his bravery in the face of Dr. Cox’s wrath if it wasn’t for the way he clutched Mr. Cookiepants to his chest. 

“Dr. Cox was just stopping by to threaten me.” 

“Oh,” JD said lamely, and then _–_ conversationally. “Is that a weekly thing or…” 

Dr. Cox turned towards him, eyes blazing.

“Look here, Clarabelle,” He said, flicking the side of his nose. “I can’t even pretend to understand what is going on in that moussed-up head of yours. I mean, really. Is this a coming-of-age thing all teenage girls have to go through once they hit puberty? Or is it because your crush didn’t ask you to prom so now you’re acting out, trying to ‘find yourself’? 

“Because if so, lemme tell you right now: We’d all be so grateful if you could just go back to dyeing your hair a crazy shade of purple instead of playing doctor with Charles Lee Ray. So whaddya say, Shelley? Come back?” 

“I-” JD swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” 

“Don’t make me beg, Newbie.” He said, and then a moment later. “JD. Please.” 

He reached out to pat his shoulder and JD scrambled back, stumbling over a chair and nearly falling to the floor in his frantic attempt to get away. 

“Don’t touch me!” 

He didn’t dare look up. He could feel the two doctors staring at him, could feel his skin prickle under their unwavering attention. An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, smothering and stifling. Eventually, there was the sound of footsteps and a door slamming shut. 

From the corner of his eye, he could see Dr. Norris move slowly towards him. 

“You alright?” 

JD drew a shaky breath and willed his expression into a smile. “I’m fine.” 

“You know,” Dr. Norris said hesitantly, his tone sympathetic and warm. He sounded like he was talking to a spooked animal. “This hospital doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to legal advice, but if Dr. Cox did something to you…” 

JD’s eyes widened. 

“No! No, it’s not _–_ nothing like that. That’s not… not what happened.” 

Dr. Norris seemed unconvinced, but thankfully let it go. 

(The next day, JD found a sexual harassment pamphlet in his locker.) 

  


\-- 

  


They were hanging out in the parking lot. Just him and Turk, like in the old days. The sun was beaming and a soft breeze kept ruffling through his hair every now and then. For the first time since the shooting, JD felt relaxed. 

“This is nice.” 

“Yeah.” 

They sat in silence as they watched the latest batch of interns and murses play a round of basketball. Their occasional shouts and whistles provided a calming background noise. 

“I still wish you’d come back,” Turk said after a while. “And I’m not just saying that because I miss you. Don’t get me wrong, I love chillin’ with you. Now I have to go to the other end of the hospital if I want to see my V-Bear. But…” 

He nodded towards the parking lot and JD followed his gaze to the Porsche pulling into one of the empty parking spots. It had seen better days; its rear windshield was spattered with dust and the tires were coated in a thick layer of mud. And yet it didn’t look nearly as awful as its owner. JD drew in a sharp breath when he saw him, his stomach curdling in guilt. Dr. Cox looked absolutely awful. His skin was pale and his eyes were sunken-in, making him look like he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks. 

“He’s been pulling double shifts for a while now. Carla said that Jordan went to her mother’s. For good, if you know what I mean,” Turk said. “I think he really misses you, man. He hasn’t been the same since you left. It’s like he just gave up.”

  


\-- 

_Walking the tightrope gets easier over time. It's one of those things you have to practice regularly: If you avoid enough codes and time-of-death proclamations, people will start to think that's your thing._ _Like Dr. "No Shot" Callahan. It's an act, nothing more._

_And at some point, you might even start to fool yourself into believing that being called a lazy coward isn't hurtful._

_\--_

  


“I swear to God, Pee-Pants, you better have a damn good reason for calling me down here.” 

“Hey, Dr. Cox.” 

He would have laughed at the way Dr. Cox’s head swiveled in his direction if he wasn’t so damn nervous about what he was about to do. 

“Newbie.” 

For once, Dr. Cox's expression was open and unguarded, allowing JD to see the resignation in his eyes. It only lasted for a moment though, and all too soon Dr. Cox had composed himself, shoulders tensing and hands clenching into fists at his side. JD swallowed. 

“What did ya call me down here for? Don’t tell me one of your kids croaked and now you need someone to spoon you while you cry your pretty little eyes out. 

“You think my eyes are pretty?” 

A shrill whistle cut through the resounding silence of the morgue, and JD flinched. Right. No getting off track. 

“There’s something I need to tell you. About why I switched to pediatrics.” 

“Lemme stop you right there, Becca. I don’t care.” 

“I think you do.” 

Dr. Cox flicked his nose and crossed his arms, but JD held his ground, chin raised in defiance. He just hoped that Dr. Cox didn’t notice the way his hands were shaking. 

“You died.” 

“Yeah,” Dr. Cox snapped, his tone harsh and cold. “And you brought me back, so what? Isn’t that your job, Molly? Did you want some heart-shaped candies and thank-you letters proclaiming my undying gratitude or _–_ what the fuck?!” 

Dr. Cox stopped dead in his tracks, eyes fixed on the woman lying on the examination table in front of them. Her chest was split wide-open and her organs lay neatly-bagged by her side. It wasn’t anything they hadn’t seen before, nothing out of the ordinary when one worked at a hospital. That is, if it weren’t for the way she suddenly sat up when JD poked his finger into her cheek. 

“Where am I? What is going on?” 

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Mrs. Flannigan, but you’re dead.” 

“Oh, dear me. Are you an angel then?” 

“No," JD said. "I’m a doctor.” 

She gave an indignant huff. “Not a particularly good one, if I’m dead _–_ ” 

“Yes, thank you. I hope you rest in peace.” JD touched his finger to her forehead and watched as she slammed back onto the examination table like a bag of bricks. 

He looked back to Dr. Cox who stood utterly silent, his eyes locked onto the corpse on the examination table. For a long moment, silence reigned. JD’s heart was hammering away in his chest; he wondered if Dr. Cox could hear it. 

“I have this thing,” JD said eventually, unable to hold back any longer. “I can bring people back from the dead.” 

“How did you do that?” 

“What?” His face furrowed in confusion. Before now he hadn’t given much thought to how Dr. Cox would react. He had been too afraid to imagine the anger or disgust or _–_ worst of all _–_ the fear on his face. Now however, JD wished that he had taken the time to run it past his imagination at least once. It would have given him a head start at making sense of this ungodly situation. 

“Is she an actor? Is this _–_ what,” Dr. Cox forced out a laugh that made JD wince. He sounded equal parts horrified and hysterical. “Is this one of your pranks? Will Ghandi jump out from behind the door next?” 

“This isn’t a joke, Dr. Cox. I’m serious.” 

But Dr. Cox wasn’t listening. The look on his face was dark as he took a step in his direction. Automatically, JD backed away until he hit the wall. Dr. Cox didn’t slow down though. Instead, he kept advancing on him, wild and angry. JD pressed further into the metal rows behind him, his throat constricting with fear. He couldn’t breathe. There wasn’t any air left, nothing, nothing, nothing. 

And still, Dr. Cox was moving towards him. He was much too close now. JD watched in horror as he reached out towards him. 

“Don’t touch me!” He cried and raised his arms over his head, the sleeves of his shirt drawn taunt over his palms to conceal as much skin as possible. His knees buckled beneath him, no longer strong enough to carry his weight as panic set in, pushing him to the ground. He whimpered. “If you do, you’ll die.” 

Dr. Cox stopped dead in his tracks. 

JD looked up at him miserably. 

“One touch brings them back, the next kills them forever.” 

For long seconds, neither of them moved. JD sat crouched in a corner of the morgue, arms wrapped protectively around himself _–_ a measly comfort when all he wanted was to be held close, to be soothed. To be told that everything was going to be okay. His heart was racing as he watched Dr. Cox for any signs of movement, feeling not unlike a deer caught in a hunter’s trap. 

Eventually, Dr. Cox blinked and his eyes softened. 

“Come on, Newbie. I’m buying you lunch.” 

  


\-- 

  


They were sitting in the diner across the street from the hospital. The one he and Dr. Cox had gone to after Tracy’s death. It was only fitting, JD thought. Their current mood was much the same as back then. Strained.

On their way over, JD had made sure to keep his distance, furtively stealing glances at Dr. Cox from the corner of his eye to make sure that he was far enough away. That there wasn't any chance of accidental touches, no brushing up against his arm of bumping his shoulder. If Dr. Cox had noticed his uneasiness, he hadn’t cared. He had seemed lost in thought, hands stuffed inside the pockets of his jacket. Completely silent. 

“So, you’re a freak then.” 

JD took a sip of his orange juice, brows furrowing. “I prefer _gifted_.” 

Dr. Cox mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like _of course you do, ya girl_. 

“When did you…” 

“When I was a child,” JD said. “I had this dog who got run over by a car. When I touched him, he came back to life. For a while at least _–_ until I touched him again.” 

“That stuffed lab…” 

“Rowdy, yeah.” He nodded. “I’m glad though. Because a month later, my mother had a stroke. When I touched her, I knew that she’d be fine as long as I stayed away.” 

He ignored Dr. Cox's eyes on him in favor of pushing his mashed potatoes around his plate. He'd rather not take in the pity on his face.

“You brought your mother back? But that means…” 

“I haven’t been able to touch her since I was ten. No hugs and kisses for me.” He offered a self-depreciating smile. “Guess that's why I’m so touchy-feely all the time.” 

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah.” 

They sat in silence, their food untouched. 

“So, who else knows? I'm guessing you told Ghandi?” 

He shook his head. 

“Actually, I’ve never told anyone. I guess I’ve always been afraid of what people would say if they found out. The only one who knows it the Janitor.” 

Dr. Cox arched his eyebrow. “The Janitor.” 

JD shrugged. “He reads my diary.” 

And there it was again, that tense silence that had dominated his interactions with Dr. Cox for the past few weeks. JD briefly debated lightening the mood with one of his nonsensical ramblings. Surely there was something he could say in a situation like this? Something that would make this whole mess bearable. 

There wasn’t. 

“So, bottom line: we can’t touch. Ever.” 

JD nodded. “Yeah.” 

A pained expression flickered across Dr. Cox’s face. JD wasn't sure what to make of it, so he focussed on reassuring him instead. 

“But this is good, right?” He said, wincing when he sounded unconvinced even to his own ears. “You get a second chance. Y'know, to be alive and happy.” 

  


\-- 

  


He was startled awake by a loud banging on the door. 

JD poked his head outside his room and watched Carla _–_ sleepy-eyed, her hair tousled _–_ do the same. 

A muffled _open up, Clarice_ sounded through the door. Carla threw him a pitying look before she shuffled back into the room she shared with Turk. Thanks for that, JD thought and resigned himself to his fate.

As soon as he opened the door, Dr. Cox came tumbling towards him, clearly drunk and just as clearly confused that the door had suddenly disappeared into thin air. Sorcery. 

“Newb.” He slurred. “I’m so see to glad you.” 

Heaving a sigh, JD donned a pair of oven gloves from the kitchen _–_ double-checking that there was no skin showing, demure like a Victorian damsel _–_ before steering Dr. Cox by the shoulders into his room. He gently pushed him onto the bed, before sinking into the chair in the corner of his room.

Truth be told, he couldn't bring himself to be angry with Dr. Cox. Annoyed, yes. But at the end of the day, this whole mess was his fault. He was the one responsible for Dr. Cox's misery after all.

“It’s not fair, Newbie,” Dr. Cox rasped, his voice tight with emotion. He was staring at the ceiling, his expression unreadable in the sullen darkness of the room. “You didn’t even give me a choice. You didn’t even… how the fuck am I supposed to be happy when I can’t… when you… when you’re right there and I can’t…” 

His heart gave a hopeful flutter.

“Dr. Cox? What are you saying?” 

There was no reply. Dr. Cox had already passed out. 

  


\-- 

  


Things had been strained between them ever since Dr. Cox’s jumbled admission. 

The morning after had been incredibly awkward. They had both traipsed around each other, acting as if nothing had happened. Turk had tried to catch his eye during breakfast, clearly waiting for an explanation as to why Dr. Cox was sitting on their couch, his tussled locks and scowling face clearly at odds with the _I hate mondays-_ Garfield bowl filled with Cheerios in his lap. 

Judging from Carla’s line of interrogation ("Do you like this kind of cereal, Dr. Cox? I’ll have to buy more if you’re thinking about crashing regularly" _),_ JD was pretty sure she assumed the two of them had slept with each other. Fantastic. Why did his life have to be like this?

“He was shrouded in an aura of solitude. This tragic doctor who controlled life and death.” A beat. “That’s from my new stand-up bit.” 

JD groaned, just about managing to resist the urge to bang his head against his locker. 

“What do you want?” 

“Just making conversation.” The Janitor shrugged, looking around the empty locker room as if he was seeing it for the first time. Judging by the state of the shower stalls it probably was. “I know I can’t possibly understand what is going on in your supreme doctor-head, but if this thing makes you this unhappy, why don’t you get rid of it?” 

Suddenly, JD felt wide awake. 

“Hold on,” he said, voice rising in irritation. “Are you saying there’s a way for me to get rid of this thing? And you’ve known all this time?!” 

The Janitor shrugged and JD had to suppress the urge to punch him in the face. Mostly because he was afraid of hurting his hand. That jaw looked mighty robust. 

“You didn’t seem interested in making a deal.” 

“About your zombie squirrels, yeah!” 

“What, you got something bigger planned? Why won’t you tell me? Is it because I’m just some lowly janitor?” 

“No, can you- argh!” He groaned, digging his thumbs into his eyes in an attempt to compose himself. He needed to remain calm or he’d end up in the water tank. Again. “Look, can you just tell me what you know?”

The Janitor pursed his lips in a show of contemplation. 

“I want you to do something for me first.” 

Two hours and a slew of demeaning errands later, JD nearly broke down when the Janitor looked him straight in the eyes and told him that all his problems would be solved by “True Love’s kiss.” 

  


\-- 

  


“I mean, the gull of him!” JD said, fiddling with the label on his beer. “Can you believe him?” 

Next to him, Dr. Cox hmph-ed in polite disinterest. The two of them had made their way up the hospital roof for a spontaneous after-work beer. It seemed like things between them had changed after their fateful run-in with death. Dr. Cox had only protested briefly when JD caught him in the locker room after his shift, a six-pack of local craft beer (chosen solely because of the smiling lumberjack on the packaging) in hand. 

“What did he tell you?” Dr. Cox clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Does he want you to bathe in the blood of his enemies during the next full moon?” 

“Worse,” JD said, shuddering at the image. “ _True love’s kiss_. Like this is some kind of fairy tale and I’m about to ride off into the sunset.” 

Seriously. He could go on about this for hours, rant about how the Janitor romanticized his curse, how this wasn’t a teen-rated love story, and how there was no happy ending for people like him. He would have, too, if it wasn't for the way Dr. Cox had gone completely still, his shoulders rigid with tension as he stared at JD. 

“What are you…” 

“Do you think it’ll work?” 

“What?” 

“The kiss. Do you think it might work?” 

“N- I don’t… I mean,” JD cleared his throat. “For starters, where would I even find someone who liked me that much? It’s not like women are just standing in line for a chance to get with me or _–_ well, you would probably say there’s no prince charming on a white horse looking to kiss me awake whenever I zone out or, uhm, whatever.” 

He was usually much better at imitating Dr. Cox’s rants, but something about the way he was looking at him threw him off.

“Newbie,” Dr. Cox said eventually, and JD clamped his mouth shut, thankful for the interruption. “No matter what happens now, it’s not your fault, alright?” 

“What?” 

And then Dr. Cox leaned in and closed the distance between them. 

JD froze, his heart bursting with panic. It took him a second to register what was happening _–_ and then yet another to will his body into action. He pushed at Dr. Cox's chest, his hands shaking uncontrollably. 

“JD,” someone said and his eyes snapped open. 

Dr. Cox was smiling at him, his eyes warm and bright and _alive_. 

  


\-- 

  


“Do you still love me now that I’m no longer gifted?” 

After their kiss, he had dragged Dr. Cox down to the morgue where he had proceeded to jab his finger into various foreheads and chins to confirm that his gift (or curse or magic powers, he still wasn’t sure on the terminology) were indeed gone. When none of them had woken up, JD had cried with joy. Manly tears. Of manliness.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Violet. I could barely tolerate you before all this went down, and I certainly don’t feel any different now that you’re no longer poking goners in the face.” 

JD grinned. Dr. Cox sure was talking a lot of crap for someone who had gruffly insisted on spooning him the night before. 

“You'll come back now, won't ya?” Dr. Cox said as he flipped through the sports pages of his newspaper, seemingly disinterested in his own line of conversation.

“Come back?” 

“You’re not going to keep up this ridiculous pretense with pediatrics, right? Working with that moronic puppeteer.” 

“He’s not so bad actually.” 

Dr. Cox glared at him over the top of his paper. Wrong thing to say, apparently. 

“Dr. Norris,” he spat out the name with the same contempt he reserved for Dr. Kelso or Jordan’s mother. “Even if I lived to be 120, I still wouldn’t have enough time to list e- _he_ -verything that is wrong with that obnoxiously irritating, air-headed narcissist.” 

“As opposed to my other mentor who is an obnoxiously sarcastic, dysfunctional narcissist?” 

“You forget that I have much nicer eyes.” 

JD failed to suppress the besotted smile that stretched over his lips. 

“I’ll talk to Kelso tomorrow. I really missed working with you.” 

“Yeah?” Dr. Cox asked, clearly fishing. “Anything else you missed, Lydia?” 

JD felt a bit sheepish as he reached out to intertwine their fingers. Some part of him still worried that Dr. Cox would push him away and declare this all a huge mistake. Still, nothing wagered, nothing gained. 

“I missed _you_.” 

“Damn right, Newbie.”

“I’m-” Cutting himself off, JD cleared his throat. “I’ve always wished I was normal, y’know? But if I hadn’t… What I’m trying to say is, that as much misery as my ‘gift’ as brought me, it has also given me you. So, it can’t have been a bad thing altogether, right?” 

Dr. Cox rolled his eyes, but his voice was warm and affectionate when he said: “You’re such a girl, Newbie.” He hesitated, picking his words carefully. “But I suppose it’s only fair to say that I’m… glad you’ve brought me back. Because so far I’m really liking this second chance thing.” 

He smiled _–_ an actual, non-sarcastic smile _–_ and JD felt something swell inside his chest. 

Yes, he thought, this second chance thing was really working out for them. 

\--

_Working in a hospital is like a balancing act. You're constantly crossing the line between life and death, knowing that most days you won't be able to beat the odds. It doesn't stop you from trying though. Because some days you manage to stay on the tightrope, basking in the lights. It's the best feeling in the world._

_Those days make it worth the risk of falling._

\-- 


End file.
